Exception
by unleashed-demons
Summary: /Maybe she'll fall for you./ Yeah, and maybe I'll fall for ham too. Carly/Sam


While Miss. Briggs is flapping her big mouth away on a topic nobody cares about, I'm flicking pencils at Freddie and I'm successful everytime he groans. It's a great time killer. Miss. Briggs doesn't have a soul, and I can prove that by cutting her heart open that'll come out demented and black as cares about some dead poet whose plays made no sense? Seriously. They all sound drunk. Why did everyone love his plays anyway? Shoot me.

Well, unless it was Romeo and Juliet…and Carly got to be Juliet while I was Romeo…Or would it be Juliet and-shut up!

_Maybe she'll fall for you._ Yeah, and maybe I'll fall for ham too. Oh savour it. It's never gonna happen anyways. It's not like I'm ever gonna be her little girlfriend, or...forget it. It's not like it's ever happening. Not in Seattle or anywhere else. Not in a box, not with a fox. Sometimes I think I'm still mentally a child.

Miss. Briggs gives me a death glare. "And I'd be just as happy to get a husband, Miss Puckett."

I snort. "In your dreams, you old hag."

Saved by the bell. Shit. I really should've offend people, but they deserve it for being stupid. I have valid reasons, right? Whatever.

"Hey, wanna head to the Groovy Smoothie?" Carly asks cheerfully.

"Can I come?" Freddie asks, hopeful.

_No._

_Go away._

Why is he in my life?

"Sure, but uh, Freddie?"

"Yeah?"

"Something about your relative in a hospital? I think he's really sick." I lie.

Freddie stares at me blankly. "What? Harris? Be back in a few!"

Idiot.

_You're groovy for Carly's Smoothie. You'd sure love to groovy for her smoothie, wouldn't ya?_ I hate thinking.

"Blueberry Bannana Blitz?"

She knows my favorite.

"Wait - You're gonna pay?" Carly blinks at me stupidly, shocked.

I'm not totally useless. I'm not broke. Yeah, I come from a broken home but I can be nice sometimes. Only to Carly. She's the exception.

I nod. "Yeah, Carls. I'm not homeless, you know."

Carly laughs lightly. "I know. You just don't usually do nice things, that's all."

"Dude, I only don't do nice things to people I hate. Got it?" I turn my head towards T-bo. "Banana Blitz, Strawberry Splat."

Carly smiles. "Yay. Sam doesn't hate me. But I don't get you."

"Neither do I get why my mom hula dances in a bikini with her strap-"

She pets me on the back. "Some things as friends we keep personal."

I blink. "W-what?"

"Your mom hula dancing with her shirt off!"

Oh.

"She wasn't-I wasn't gonna-she just got a nose job-"

Carly shakes her head, sucking in her laughter. I look at T-bo.

"This is ice cream." Carly says matter-of-factly.

T-Bo grins. "So?"

Carly says, "On a stick!"

What's so special when food's on a stick? Everything. Duh.

Carly shakes her head. "Pickles, bagels, and now ice cream...?"

I groan. "Did anyone tell you that you're janked up? Seriously, dude, what's your obsession with food on a stick?"

T-Bo looks down sadly. Christ. "...Now it's gone. I got no ice cream, nobody got no ice cream."

"Dude! T-Bo! What the hell? That's a dang Smoothie!"

"Right. Now it's styrofoam." He chuckles softly.

"What? It's styrofoam, cheapskate! Give our money back!"

Yeah. I never did go to those anger management sessions.

"Oh no. Long gone. Y'all come back now, you hear? Next week: pizza on a stick." T-Bo smiles and walks away.

I groan again. "This is unbelievable. Well..., so much for my five bucks."

Carly studies me curiously. "What were you planning to do with five bucks?"

I shrug. "Eh, me and Wendy were gonna go sit on the school roof and and peg people with coins."

Carly blinks. "The school roof?"

Is she really that shocked?

"Chillax."

"I'm not gonna 'Chillax' until you tell me what's wrong with you!" Carly lashes out.

"What-what do ya mean?" I stutter like an idiot.

"You've been acting strange."

I chew on my lip. "N-no I haven't."

Carly rolls her eyes. "Oh come on, Sam! What's gotten into you?"

"What're you talking about? Nothing! It's me, okay? I'm Sam. Sam I am."

She shrugs carelessly. "You're different, that's all."

I swallow thickly. "Carls, I'm still the same old me. You sure you're feeling alright? Maybe it's you."

"Me? I don't think I'm acting different. I don't know."

"Hey look it's that guy over there." I say quickly.

"What guy? I'm open!" Carly yells basically to the whole world.

I nudge her. "You know, THAT guy right over-"

Carly looks disappointed. "Um, hi."

"Name's Greg. I'm a milkman."

There really was a guy. Or old man. Whatever.

"I'm seventeen!" Carly says matter-of-factly.

He stands over us. "Maybe we can, you know, go out sometime? I'll buy you a drink."

"I don't-"

"Dude, get lost. She plays on the other team."

"Sam?! I do not!" Carly protests. "Come on, let's go get some fried chicken."

Though, you know, when has fried chicken ever put me down? Right, when the first crusted layer disappears, sure. I'm a little disappointed afterwards. Other than that? It's good! I can live with the feeling of a satisfied stomach! But come on, having a miserable life isn't all that bad...sometimes my mother laughs. _Is it, Sam? Is it really?_


End file.
